A Study in Potions: All in the Timing
by lupuscarmen13
Summary: A series of drabbles written for Hogwarts School Potion's Class. From explosions to love potions, the life of a brewer is...exciting, to say the least.
1. Chapter 1: Explosions

"Harry!"

Harry paused, one hand above the angrily bubbling potion. "What?"

Hermione snatched his wrist, yanking it away from the liquid. "If you put that in there, the whole potion will catch on-"

"Fire!"

The two spun around to see Seamus and Neville frantically backing away from their cauldrons, flames spouting up ten feet high. The red tongues licked the ceiling as Snape slammed open the door of his office, the thick wood pounding against the moist stone walls.

The fire was rapidly jumping from cauldron to cauldron as Snape rushed over, his wand brandishing in his hand. Jets of water and some odd powder landed on the flaming cauldrons, only for a handful of flames to vanish. Snape let out a loud swear, his pale face blanching.

"Sir?" Dean shouted, his voice frightened. None of them had ever seen such a reaction from the 'bat of the dungeons'.

"Get away from those cauldrons!" Snape shouted, summoning the students to his side. Harry let out a loud yelp as his hip smacked against the side of desk and then into Snape's robes. Just as the loud sound of an explosion struck Harry's ears, a silvery-gray shield erected itself over the huddled class, dust exploding out over it. Everything grew still and the shield faded away.

It was silent for one long moment.

"Is everyone alright?" Snape asked, his voice dangerously low.

Harry and the others muttered quietly, watching the Potions professor stand, his robes smoldering slightly. "Finnigan! Longbottom!"

The two's head shot up from their position by Snape's feet, their faces bone-white.

"Detention until Easter break and 150 points from Gryffindor. Your lack of attention and care could have cost this entire classroom's lives. You also will assist Mr. Filch into repairing this room and the rest of the dungeons."

"Are you serious?" Ron whispered quietly, his face pale. The room was black and crumbling, embers glowing softly like a tiger's stripe. "That'll take them months!"

"You can join them, Weasley," Snape snapped, his robes billowing. Ron opened his mouth to start arguing, but both Harry and Hermione pulled him back, glaring venomously at the Potions professor. The other Gryffindors joined them. Snape's scowl darkened.

"Do any of you imbeciles realize just how close to death you where? I told you at the beginning of this period and wrote on the board what would happen if you moved quickly and did any step wrong. I stepped out for a single moment only for you to nearly kill yourselves! It is lucky that I don't have all of you join Messrs. Finnegan, Weasley, and Longbottom! Now get out of my sight!"

With that, the students scrambled for the ashen door, yelping as it crumbled away. Snape gave a loud snort and began casting spells at the ceiling.

"Did you really just do that?" Hermione hissed to Ron as the three walked quickly away. Ron's already bright red face and ears turned even darker and he scowled, shoving his hands into his dusty pockets.

"Stick up for my mates?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it Ron."

"Guys, stop," Harry said tiredly. "We all nearly got killed. Let's not argue."

"It's all Longbottom's fault," Ron said bitterly.

"More likely Seamus," Harry reasoned. "He_ is_ the pyromaniac."

"I think you should look behind you," Hermione said softly.

They turned to see Neville staring at them, looking hurt.

Ron paled, his face turning an odd pinkish color. "Neville..."

"I know it's my fault," Neville said softly. "Both Seamus and I should have been watching, but I was going to fast. At this rate, my gran's going to be sending me off to Canada with an expulsion in hand."

"No, Neville-" Harry and Hermione tried while Ron spluttered, looking guilty.

"It's okay," Neville said, walking quickly away from them. "I-I'll see you later."

With that, Neville was gone.

The trio looked at each other, faces guilty and regretful.

"We have to talk to him," Hermione said.

"Definitely," Harry said.

Ron nodded. "Let's go."

With that, they gave chase, Snape's detentions and the shambles of the Potions lab far from their minds.


	2. Chapter 2: Love Potions

**A/N: ...sorry, readers of Stolen. I'm working on it...in good news, I'll get both chapter 17 and 18 out quickly, due to my plans. MWAHAHA**

**-clears throat-**

**Anyway, here is my Potions homework assignment, a little drabble I wrote for the upcoming Aromantic Awareness Week. Aromantic is the lack of romantic attraction to someone. It is not very well known, due to the lack of awareness for such things in our society. Unfortunately for dear Aberforth here, if aromance is hardly on the radar now, it was non-existent then...and unlike those lucky people today who are able to discover why they are so different from alloromantics, Aberforth would have been clueless...**

**Prompt: Love Potion**

Albus leaned over the cauldron, one auburn eyebrow raised. "Aberforth, is this...?"

"A love potion for myself, yes," Aberforth muttered, staring at the pearly potion, the rainbow fumes coming up in spirals.

"Why?" Albus asked, taking a hold of Aberforth's shoulder. "Aberforth-"

"It's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" Albus asked, his blue eyes flashing. "That's Amortentia, the strongest love potion in the world! It is illegal to use against someone-"

"There is no law against taking it yourself," Aberforth snapped, wrapping his thin arms around himself.

Albus paused, blinking. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Yes, I did," Albus said slowly, "but I don't understand."

Aberforth snorted. "That's a first."

"Aber-"

"I'm tired of feeling broken." Aberforth stared into the fumes, a twisted look of pain, sorrow, and grief in his eyes. "I never carry a torch* for anyone. I-" He broke off, watching the swirling smoke. "In some ways, I'm like you...peacherinos* aren't for me. And though I'm attracted to sheiks*...I don't want to have a relationship with them...I don't want to take them out to the diner. I'm not like you and Gellert. I'm _broken._"

Albus stared at Aberforth, speechless. "Aberforth, you just haven't met the right-"

"If I haven't met the right person yet, then why am I 17 years old and never loved another?" Aberforth shouted, banging his fist on the table. Rings set out from the center of the cauldron. "I don't smell _anything_, Albus." He glanced at the cauldron with an unreadable expression. "That is said to be impossible."

Albus stared at his younger brother, the scent of sweet candy, Gellert's hair, and apples swirling around him. "You don't smell anything?"

"No!" Aberforth snatched his hair, leaning against the wall. "Even Arianna smelled something when she came in here earlier- she was asking why it smelt like oranges and grass." He tugged against his long, red, locks, looking utterly miserable. "So...I took it upon myself to make me fall in love."

Albus gaped. "With who?"

"Isabelle," Aberforth said. "She's a pretty bird, acceptable. And according to the grapevine, she holds a torch for me."

"Aberforth, it is neither fair to you or Isabelle to do such a thing. What should happen if you fall back out of this fake love with her?"

"Damfino*," Aberforth said bitterly.

Albus glared at his brother. "I will not let you through your life away with potions and such. We shall find out what exactly is wrong-"

"I have already found a way to fix it!" Aberforth said, his voice cracking. "And shall you rat me out to anyone, I will not forgive you."

Albus looked at Aberforth helplessly. "What if this endeavor goes wrong?"

Aberforth looked away, scooping up a bit of potion. "Then I'd like a very nice eternity box*."

"That isn't funny!"

Aberforth shrugged, letting the potion fall back into the cauldron. It was silent for a month of Sundays*. "I'm a hobbadehoy* now, Al. People are going to start wondering why I'm single."

"Let them wonder," Albus said, his voice cracking, "I'd rather that than lose someone else. Especially so soon after Mum-"

"Don't speak of her!" Aberforth said. "Please."

"Alright," Albus said, relenting. "But when this ill-thought-of plan goes awry, don't come crying to me."

Aberforth nodded sharply. "Gellert's coming by for dinner tonight," he muttered, turning back to the cauldron. "Ari's watching the soup now."

"You left her at the stove!?" Albus yelped, racing for the kitchen. Aberforth waited for the door to slam before lifting a spoon filled with potion.

"Here goes nothing..."

**A/N: The end! Aberforth, baby, you are perfect the way you are. You aren't broken..:( Anyway, there was a lot of slang in this, so check out the list on the bottom and review! 3**

_***late 1800s-1940s slang for having a crush on someone**_

_***peacherino(s)- 1900s slang for a pretty girl**_

_***sheik(s)- a man with sex appeal**_

_***damfino- "damn if I know", slang from the late 1800s.**_

_***eternity box- coffin**_

_***hobbadehoy- a youth who has ceased to regard himself as a child, and is not yet regarded as an adult**_

_***a month of Sundays- an indefinite period, a long time**_


End file.
